


Catharsis

by lamenbabe



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Post-Kings Rising, Sexual Content, this is actually so cheesy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamenbabe/pseuds/lamenbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the end, there was something stronger than the hate and the shame, than the forgiveness." </p><p>*******</p><p>A series of short one-shots set after the events of Kings Rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where this is going to all go! This first installment is literally set immediately after the last page of Kings Rising. Future chapters will be one-shots set in...the future.

**** While the bells echoed in the distance, the only other sound in the baths was Damen’s labored breathing. He would live, but the wound needed to be tended to, and soon. 

Laurent’s voice broke the air. “I have to call for Paschal. You need medical attention - I think the bleeding stopped, but -”   
  
“No,” Damen said. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me down here with him.” Laurent’s heart broke a little at the look on Damen’s face. There was nothing readily available to cover Kastor’s body with. Laurent didn’t want to leave Damen for a second, but he knew that the wound needed to be treated. He wasn’t sure if Damen should be walking yet, either. 

Damen moved the bloody hand covering his wound to grab the dirtied fabric of Laurent’s chiton.

“People will be looking for us. Don’t leave.” He said, again. Laurent quickly removed his hand and placed it back over the wound along with his own, their hands clasped together.

“The longer you sit here with your stomach open like that, the more the wound will fester. You're not dying of an infection, after all of this.”

Damen scoffed. “My stomach isn’t open, it’s just a flesh wound, I can walk -”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Damen. I just have to find someone to call for a physician, and I’ll be back immediately. I swear it. You really have no choice in this matter, as you’re chained to the wall.” 

Damen glared at Laurent as he continued on. “Just close your eyes until I come back, alright? Keep them shut, and think about something nice.”

Damen did as he was bid, and Laurent pressed a kiss to his temple before rising to his feet.   “I’ll be back, I promise.” And with that, Laurent walked carefully around Kastor’s  body and made his way up the stairs the way he had came.  


 

***

 

Nikandros’ stomach dropped and his ears rang as he saw the Veretian prince come running around the corner into the long corridor, covered in blood.

It was all over him - his arms, hands, and chest, further ruining the now unrecognizable chiton. At the sight of him, disheveled and bloody, Nikandros imagined the worst. His stomach dropped - he wasn’t sure how he could grieve his closest friend, his king, for the second time. But when his eyes met Laurent’s, the weight upon his chest lifted. 

He did not have the look Damen wore upon his face when he returned from the Kingsmeet without him. Laurent’s chest was heaving, he was visibly out of breath, and once he caught sight of Nikandros, he started for him rather urgently. Nikandros spoke first, standing in place. 

“Where is he?” His panicked voice boomed in the eerily silent corridor. “Where is Damianos - is he all right, where is he?”

“He’s fine, he’ll live, he’s in the baths - but send for Paschal. He’s been hurt.” Laurent put a hand on the marble wall for support. 

“What happened?” Nikandros didn’t sound surprised.    
  
“Kastor. He stabbed him.” Laurent’s eyes did not leave Nikandros’.

Nikandros’ breath left him, and his face paled. He ran a hand over his features.

“And Kastor? What of him?”

“Dead. I killed him.” Laurent’s voice didn't change as he said the words. Nikandros exhaled, as though in relief. 

Nikandros hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on Laurent’s shoulder. 

“Thank you. For doing what he could not. We both know his nature.  You have my trust.” The words were solemn and genuine.

“As you have mine.” Laurent meant the words, too. 

“I will find Paschal, go back to Damen. Take this - it will help staunch the bleeding.” He said, unpinning his short cloak.     
  
“Thank you,” said Laurent. “And hurry.” Nikandros nodded, and they parted ways.     

 

***

 

Later that evening, after Paschal had cleaned and tended to Damen’s wound, they were left alone in his chambers.

It didn’t seem quite real, as the heavy doors sounded shut and a gentle breeze from the open balcony came through the large room. The sun was setting, and it was the kind of view Laurent decided he could get used to, as long as Damen was beside him. He settled in next to Damen, brushing his hair back with his fingers.

“Forgive me if I cannot stay awake to savor this moment with you.” Damen said, turning his head to face Laurent.    


Laurent smiled at him in return, and it was the most magnificent thing Damen had ever seen. 

“What moment?”   
  
“The one where you fuss over me.”    
  
Laurent rolled his eyes, and asked “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”   


“Immensely,” was all Damen said in response. “I love the way your fingers feel in my hair.” 

“Go to sleep.  I’ll be here when you wake.” Laurent’s voice was soft and soothing.    


“Say that again.”   
  
“I’ll be here when you wake.” They could both hear the smile in Laurent’s voice. 

“I love the way that sounds.” Damen said, his eyes fluttering shut, lips curled into a lazy smile. 

“I like it, too.” Laurent kept softly stroking his fingers through his hair until Damen’s breathing even out and he succumbed to sleep. 

 

***

 

His whole body screamed with exhaustion, and so Laurent struggled to keep his eyes open. He lay next to Damen, fast asleep on his back, his wound stitched and bandaged. Laurent watched the rise and fall of his chest, listened to his even breathing. He always keeps a hand on his chest to feel the steady beat of his heart. He also does it to tell himself that Damen is real - he’s alive, he’s here, lying next to him. 

The notion that he would be able to do this every night for the rest of his days was such an consuming, overwhelming idea he couldn’t entirely wrap his mind around it; couldn’t comprehend it  


Throughout the night, He doesn’t always look directly at Damen, or his face. That would be too much right now.

Damen represented everything he had ever gained and lost in his life. His brother, his youth. His kingdom, his freedom. It scared Laurent how vividly he still remembered hating Damen, how he sometimes felt the shadow of the emotion creeping at the edge of his consciousness.

But then Damen would smile at him, and it would all go away. He would hear his words echo in his mind, and he would forget he ever hated him in the first place. 

Almost worse than the hate was the shame. It was a heavy weight on his chest, and was not banished as easily and as quickly as the hate. He would never forget how he treated Damen with cruelty; how he had nearly killed him and enjoyed it the whole while. 

Damen could forgive him, yes - but kind words couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make him forget how his face had looked when he had him whipped the first and then the second time. He would have dreams about it sometimes, the crack of the whip, the shudder and eventual limp of Damen’s body. He dreamt about Damen’s sword thrusting into Auguste’s chest, too, the way his body had slumped to the ground afterwards.

He didn’t blame Damen for what had happened to him after his brother’s death, of course not - but it was still by his hand his brother died. It was by his hand too, that he saved his life on more than one occasion. It was Damen who came for him in Ios, who was prepared to die by his side. 

It was understood it was to be like that between them. They could not forget their intertwined pasts before this moment, before coming to know each other - but they could forgive. Laurent now knew that the catharsis of forgiveness between the two was more satisfying than any form of revenge would ever have been. 

In the end, there was something stronger than the hate and the shame, than the forgiveness.

The love. 

The love choked him and consumed him a thousand times stronger than anything else. For someone who thought that he would never love or be loved by another person again, the weight in which Laurent felt that single emotion shocked him. He hadn’t cared for somebody the way he cared for Auguste since his death. He had forgotten what it was like, to love someone like that. There was fondness, of course - for his honor guard, members of his household, for Nicaise. But nothing like this, no. With the love, came the trust. He had forgotten that too, the privilege of being able to rely on somebody so wholeheartedly and without fear. 

_ Loving him is a miracle _ , Laurent thinks. 

This was the man he should have spent the rest of his life hating, this was the man he had imagined killing, over and over in his head thousands of times. It was a miracle they had reached this fixed, final point alive and together. 

It was then Laurent let himself turn his head and gaze at Damen. He was beautiful, his dark skin gleaming in the moonlight. The only other sound in the room was his steady, even breath. 

Eventually Laurent could stay awake no longer, lulled to sleep by the sound of Damen’s breathing, the feel of his body next to his, and the sheer exhaustion he felt in his bones.

 

***

 

They awoke in stages, but neither of them came to complete consciousness until the sun was high in the sky. 

 

They had smiled and kissed each other good morning, until Laurent rose out of bed to fetch Paschal to check on Damen’s wound, despite his protests that he felt fine. 

Nikandros had kept command over the palace and the men while they slept; had conferred with the Veretian councillors. Now, the real work would begin. 

After Paschal, the various council members, and Nikandros (who offered to continue covering for the two) had left, they were alone again, and just as exhausted as they had been yesterday. Their work was only just starting, yes, but for today they would rest. 

Something had been on Laurent’s mind since he had found Damen in the baths, since he had chained him to one of the many iron links. 

“In the baths. You’d been there before.” Laurent started, looking into Damen’s eyes, searching. 

“Yes.” He said, quietly. 

Laurent was silent, and waited.

“That’s where they took me, the night...everything began. I was afraid. It was like it was happening all over again.” He said, his breath shaky. Laurent nuzzled closer to Damen, his head under his chin.

“You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me.” Laurent said, almost shyly.  


“I know,” Damen said softly, his arms tightening around Laurent.  


 


	2. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen and Laurent both have bad dreams. Luckily, they have each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New content warnings for this chapter. I mention Laurent's past abuse by the R*gent very briefly and not in detail. 
> 
> Since I've got a nine-page paper due on Friday, I have great time-management skills and decided to write some hurt/comfort.

_Damen, half awake, was sated and content lying next to Laurent, who had already succumbed to sleep. Damen wasn’t ready for sleep yet, wasn’t ready to not feel the pleasant weight of exhaustion in his bones, wasn’t ready to not be aware of Laurent laying beside him, naked._

_Their lovemaking that night had been impossibly tender. He remembered how it felt when Laurent had pushed into to him, how it felt to have his body on his. At Laurent’s moment of climax, his fingers had tightened around Damen’s wrists, their hands raised above them. Laurent had peppered kisses all along the back of Damen’s neck and the side of his face. So no, he wasn’t ready to sleep yet._

_Suddenly, the large wooden doors to his room burst open, and he could hear a stream of soldiers pour in. He sat up, confused, and as he opened his eyes he heard the words “Seize him!” as if they were being echoed from a distant, horrible memory, and as they were being said a different soldier had come forward, and drew his sword across Laurent’s throat._

_Damen’s vision went black at the edges as he felt the soldier’s neck snap under his hands. He now had the soldier’s discarded sword, and all Damen could think about was that it had Laurent’s blood on it. Damen fought the men and they fell, but they kept coming, like a swarm of locusts._

_Eventually, his sword was struck from him and his arms were wrenched behind his back. The soldiers started to drag him out of the room, and he twisted his head back to see him one last time. Laurent laid as he had in sleep, but his eyes had opened in the last moments - from pain, shock, or confusion, Damen would never know. He laid in a pool of blood, and it stained his long, golden hair red. Damen was screaming._  


He awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. The fear still gripped him, and he frantically reached for Laurent, half afraid he would find him the way he had in the nightmare, dead and covered in his own blood.

He exhaled in relief when he turned to see Laurent sleeping peacefully next to him, no slash of red at his throat, no blood in his hair. Damen splayed a hand over Laurent’s chest, just to make sure that he was real and to feel the steady beat of his heart. Laurent shifted beneath him, coming awake.  
  
“Damen? Damen, what’s wrong?” Laurent asked sleepily, sounding worried. His hand went to cover the one Damen had resting on his chest, and he interlocked their fingers.

“It was just a bad dream, is all. Go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.” Damen replied in a shaky voice.   
  
“Damen, you’re crying.”

Damen’s free hand went up to his face, and he found that it was wet. He felt one of Laurent’s hands gently hold the side of his face, thumb wiping away the tears.

“Damen,” Laurent said in a low, soothing voice. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It was like it was happening all over again.” He paused, and Laurent waited.

“It was the night Kastor betrayed me. You were there, lying next to me - instead of -” he stopped. “You were lying next to me and soldiers stormed in, and they killed you.”   
  
Damen remembered clearly how Laurent had looked lying there, in his own blood, his hair stained red at the ends as if he’d seen it in reality.

“Damen, look at me,” Laurent said, gently urging him with his hand until Damen’s eyes met his. Hearing Laurent say his name over and over made him feel normal again. “It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s okay.” At the sound of his voice, Damen’s eyes began to water and the tears came again. He squeezed his eyes shut, and buried his face in Laurent’s neck. Laurent wrapped his arms around him, gently stroking Damen’s warm, dark skin with his fingers.

Laurent said nothing; he let Damen take the time he needed to calm down, to come back to himself. It didn’t take long. Damen matched his breathing to Laurent’s, waited for his heart to slow down.   
  
“Are you alright?” Laurent asked after a short while.   
  
“I am now,” Damen said, lifting his head up. Damen leaned in to kiss him, soft and sweet. Laurent smiled.

* * *

 

They both had nightmares, as they had both lived through experiences that were not so easily reconciled. 

There would be times where Laurent would wake up in the small hours of the night, sometimes lashing out and striking Damen where he lay next to him, frantically scrambling out of the sheets.

Damen wouldn’t touch him, wouldn’t reach for him. Not until Laurent would explicitly ask him, or tell him to. “It’s me,” he would always say. “It’s not him, it’s me. It’s Damen.”

Laurent would always take a moment for himself, going for a cup of water or to be alone for a minute. But he would always come back, and Damen would always be waiting. Sometimes he would sit on the edge of the bed, and sometimes he would cocoon himself immediately in Damen’s arms. The last time it had happened though, when he came back he laid down next to Damen and did not move.   
  
As he did every time, Damen asked him, “Do you want to talk about it?” and instead of answering “Not tonight.” like he always did, Laurent began to speak.

“It was the same as it always is. We’re at Chastillon. He comes towards me. I wake up.”  Laurent said the words plainly, as if trying to hide any emotion in his voice.

Rage and heartbreak set in Damen’s chest like a giant weight. For as many bad dreams he had about the night of Kastor’s betrayal, he had as many where he was back at the Kingsmeet. But instead, he did what he had said he would do. He would take a sword, and run it through the Regent’s chest, his eyes going wide, blood dripping onto the white marble. That, or they would be in the back at palace at Ios, standing in the wake of Paschal's testimony. Laurent would swing the sword against his neck.

“What can I do for you?” Damen asked, looking into Laurent’s steady eyes.

“Will you hold me?” Laurent replied.

“Always,” Damen answered. Laurent moved into the space next to Damen, resting his head against his chest. Damen’s large, muscular arms came around Laurent.

“Like this?” Damen asked.

“Yes.” Laurent answered, yawning. “I love you,” he said quietly, his eyes closed.

“I love you more.” Damen said, in a teasing voice.

“Shut up.” Laurent said, pressing a kiss to Damen’s chest, who laughed in return.

They didn’t have any more bad dreams that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lamenbabe)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lamenbabe)


End file.
